


Dragon Age Drabbles

by ScarletRogue



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Minor Lavellan/Solas, Post-Trespasser, Solavellan, The Fade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:30:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8350975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletRogue/pseuds/ScarletRogue
Summary: A collection of drabbles I sometimes write, set in the Dragon Age Universe.





	1. In the Days that Followed

**Author's Note:**

> Just a tiny drabble I had written down earlier about Lavellan after the disbanding of the Inquisition. I'm still deep within the depths of Solavellan hell, this is how I cope.

Lavellan tossed and turned, as restless these days in sleep as she was awake. Life had become… cold. She had lost so much: her clan, the Inquisition, her friends, her love. She could not get used to the way her tunics hung now, the phantom feeling of a hand no longer there. The mark had filled her with a power that thrummed through her veins, and its sudden absence was… strange.

When she woke, she missed the sound of Inquisition troops going through morning exercises, the bustle and chatter that had filled Skyhold’s grounds. With the Inquisition disbanded, most of the fortress had been cleared in short order. She wondered how much time might pass before she would need to leave as well. Not long now, she thought.

Daytime meant wandering through silent hallways, fetching books from the nook that Dorian had liked to occupy, now empty. Walking through the rotunda, seeing the half-finished fresco…

But even so, it was nighttime that was worst. Sleep did not come easily to her these days, and in truth, she did not chase after it. She spent long hours burning through candles while she staved off rest with letters that needed to be written and reports that needed to be read. When at last she fell into bed, she was left to face her dreams. She wandered the fade in search of things she did not comprehend.

And sometimes… she saw him. Sometimes she saw the tall shape of a man, cloaked in darkness, sometimes the shadowy figure of a wolf. Always impossibly far away, watching her. Even across the distance, she could always see, or perhaps feel, the sadness in his eyes. Though she knew she shouldn’t, each time she ended up reaching for him, only for him to disappear like mist, leaving her to wake up with distant whispers in her ears. She would lie there in the dark, as the hole in her chest threatened to consume her in the same way the mark almost had.


	2. Long Distance Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Mira Lavellan and Dorian used the sending crystals. This was only supposed to be 200-300 words, but... oh well.

Mira liked to keep the crystal among her things, never far from her reach. It’s simple presence was a comfort in and of itself, a reminder even in darker times that she was not without a friend. She often remembered the first time she used it. She had been sitting on the floor of her chambers, her back against the cold stone wall. She had been strangely nervous, hesitant to activate the spell. When she had worked up the courage to do so, she hadn’t known what to say. Then Dorian’s voice had come through, commenting on how she was surely lost for words due to the sorrow of his absence, and suddenly it had been a bit more like old times, when they would laugh and debate books or magical theory in the little alcove he had claimed for himself. Mira retorted with a sarcastic remark, though in fact he had been right. She missed him terribly. She had found in Dorian an unexpected friendship, a trust and closeness that she sorely needed now, when everything around her seemed to be falling apart. These days she often went to the alcove for solitude, and though the spot had always felt warm and comfortable in the days of the Inquisition, it now felt cold and empty.

They had chatted back and forth cheerfully for a while. He described the joy he took in scandalizing the magisterium, or which magister had the most hideous outfit at the last assembly. Mira, in turn, regaled him with the story of how she and Harding had gone to scout a village near their camp only for the trip to devolve into a competition to see who could collect the most elfroot in an hour. It felt good to laugh with him once more, though it was startling to realize how much time had passed since she had last laughed at all. 

When a pause followed Dorian’s latest comment, the smile slipped from Mira’s face. She gripped the crystal more tightly, feeling its sharp edges bite into her palm.

“Dorian… How are you? Really?”

When he spoke, his voice had lost some of its cheer. It was then she heard the exhaustion tugging at his voice, so similar to her own. 

“It is… difficult. Sometimes.”

The words between them had then turned more somber. Mira had felt as if some of the pain she had been working so hard to conceal was bleeding through the cracks in her armor. Words she had been careful not to speak flowed out. He told her of the hateful gazes he faced at every turn, the tireless struggle it was to make his voice heard, to rise above the filth. She told him about the sleepless nights, the days that turned to weeks with no progress to speak of, the hopelessness she felt.

She had known the question had been coming when he asked it.

“Mira…” He paused. “Has there been any word? Have you seen him?”

She hated how relieved she was that he hadn’t said his name. 

“Not since… The reports are mostly rumors. Most of them are nonsense. Some of them are… terrible.”

There was a moment of pause as she took a shuddering breath.

“I see the way they all look at me, Dorian. They think my… past with him makes me weak, unfit to lead.” She laughed, weakly. “Perhaps they’re right.”

She didn’t say that no one thought her capable of doing what was necessary, that her heart might get in the way of finishing things. She knew he heard the sentiment in her voice. She curled her legs more tightly against her body.

“Mira…” His voice caught, and it was a moment before he continued. “I believe there is more strength in your love than you know. Those who don’t see that are fools, and there is an unfortunately large number of fools in this world, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t feel strong. I feel like I’m breaking apart.”

She heard a small, bitter laugh on his end, and thought that he understood what she meant all too well.

“The light within you is not so easy to extinguish, I think. Even if at times it is difficult to see... Ah, look. You’ve made me become all sentimental.”

She rested her head against her knees, closing her eyes against tears that threatened to overflow.

“Dorian?”

“Yes, Mira?”

“I miss you.”

“...I miss you too, my friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The friendship between the female inquisitor and Dorian is one of my favorite relationships in the game. "Tevinter lacks the presence of my best and only friend. It'll keep." Ah, my heart. I'm not crying, you're crying.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to write some Dragon Age fic, but first I'd need to figure out what to write...


End file.
